Legends
by Joap
Summary: As Noxus and Demacia perform the dance of swords, a woman rises from the dust and brings herself upon the world that pushed her into the exile.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It took a long time for a cavalcade to do anything, not to mention the precariousness of navigating a narrow bridge. A few dozen refugee families crawled forth at a snails pace as hand pulled carts and sickly mule drawn carriages drew themselves tight to fit through the girth of the crossing. It was a short bridge across a short river but to the south the soil grew soft like peat and to the north the water only grew wider until it reached the frigid delta into the Guardian's Sea. There were few bridges that way, but many of them were fit for an army but that was exactly what the group was avoiding.

"Shit!" A man yelled as a wheel snapped with the sound of thunder. A collective shout surged forth from the crowd behind him and the cart was almost rolled of the bridge until a guard came forth with his ancient shortsword in his hand. The blade was as old as the river that he stood above and was sharpened on the edges with a blunt tip, it was a poor tool against true mail but only a few of the refugees possessed even a coat of leather. Then one man came forth with a hoe in his hand but when he swung he was quickly turned on by the guard and his face slammed hard against mortared stone. A few disgruntled souls stirred but none came forth to meet him and he knelt down and lifted the cart as the driver pulled another wheel from his cart and after a dozen slow minutes progress marched forward as slow as ever.

The first of the group reached the other side of the bridge when screams rang out from the far rear. A trio of horsemen appeared on the crest of a distant hill top, outlined by the sun behind them they were pitch black shadows with tall lances with wicked spiked points. In a moment a dozen more appeared behind them and another dozen and then twenty until a force of almost sixty armed men stood in the distance. Spear tips and mail glinted as the sun set behind the hill behind them. The standoff seemed to last for hours but after ten minutes a few members of the cavalcade began to abandon their possessions and rush forward. The panic spread and screams rang out as men, women and children burst forward and cramped themselves into the narrow passage.

Carts were over turned into the water, along with any belongings or people who sat upon them. A few nimble men tried to run along the rail of the bridge but were knocked down quickly into the river as flailing arms took their balance from them. A blood curdling scream rang out as a woman swollen from pregnancy was was pushed to the ground and trampled. As the crowd pushed itself forward a few figures trickled back towards the opposite side of the bridge. The guard with the ancient sword stood with his leather raiment and a few like armed guards came forth as the crowd passed. A few older men armed with farming tools, men of true honor to stay behind and bide time for their families to escape. A single hooded woman stood with them, she wore no armor besides the leather vest that hung as straps from her neck. Her sword had a plain hilt with a round pommel and a hilt that barely covered her hand. The blade was a meter long and was castle forged steel. It was a blade fit for a knight.

"Young lady, you should return to your family. This is not a fight that will be won. There is nothing for you here." The guard said as he glanced back at her. He was old enough to be her grandfather, he thought, he did not want to see another girl die before her time. He had seen much to many…

"I have no family, here or anywhere." She said solemnly. Her eyes were red like sanguine rubies and if one gazed upon them they would feel smaller as these eyes were fierce and strong, but also very sad. It was a gaze the old man knew well. He had seen it in the eyes of children who had seen their families slaughtered. He had seen it in the eyes of mothers who were stripped of their young boys as their lords called them into militias and armies. But it was different this time, only slightly. He saw pain but there was something else there, knowledge? He let the thought go.

"Have it your way." he grunted and he turned towards the hill were trumpets rang out and half of the men on the hill galloped towards them. Even half of that force left him and his men at a two to one disadvantage. His only relief was the lack of bowmen and cannon. This was a band of men that was sent out to burn, steal, murder and rape the countryside. They were not to due battle against a true resistance but his group of ragtags was irresistible. They were five hundred yards away when the red eyed woman spoke again.

"You and your men should leave." Her voice sounded like wind whistling its way through a canyon, it fell softly on the ears of the guards. The old man felt something stir in him. He felt like his lord had commanded him to retreat. A terrible weight fell on him then and he struggled to stay on his feet. He looked around as his eyes strained to stay open. He saw his men, all of them were sprawled on the floor, eyes closed and chests heaving softly, sweet dreams he saw in their faces. He looked to his side and saw the woman standing next to him and he fell to his knees. She gazed forward with her thousand yard stare and the wind gently blew the hood from her head, a long straight length of glistening and oiled white hair fell down to her shoulders.

"What foul magic is this?" The old man manage to spurt out a few words. There was no sound to be heard but the thunder of hooves against the dry clay dirt. Instead the girl knelt down and looked him in the eyes and he knew no more. He dropped slowly to the ground and his eyes closed as he was put into a long sleep. The horsemen were close now and she stood to meet them.

A horsemen were a spear throw away now and a single shaft came up into the air. It was well formed and forged well and it flew true. As the javelin struck her breast a terrible sound echoed through the air, like the sound of two cannonballs colliding in air... The spearhead shattered against her plain clothes and she stood unharmed. The horses came to a halt against the will of their riders when the sound reached there ears. They paced fearfully and one brigand kicked his stirrups and was sent reeling off his saddle in response. The apparent lead of these men patted his mount on the neck and dismounted.

"I did not know that Demacia had sunk so low to send witches to defend her men," he started, his voice was thick with the ugly accent of Noxus. "We could make good use of you if you would join us." He offered and smiled an ugly smile. The girl responded by bringing her sword forward with both hands. He stood ten strides away from her but he recoiled noticeably. "Take her alive." he ordered to his men.

In a moment half of the men dismounted and the other half began to cheer as a dozen men brought themselves into a circle around her. They took one step forward and were pushed back. The air around the girl whistled like a teapot and any man who had blinked would of missed her as she moved as swift as light and pushed her way out of the crowd. She stood behind their leader now. She held him by the hair and the man did not respond until his eyes rolled back and his body clamored down onto the turf, head still in her hand. The cut was as straight as the horizon and blood dripped slowly from it. The rest of the men dismounted as well as three raiders charged at her. Their swords collided with each other where the chest of the woman was just a moment ago but as soon as the sound faded the girl cut them down from behind and parried a blow from another strike with her bare hand.

She grabbed the blade and snapped it in half and spun around and delivered a roundhouse kick into the now deflated chest of her assailant. The rest of the men were upon her now. A spear slashed through her hair as she stabbed into a foe. She jumped back as the men began to swarm her and when they brought themselves upon her again an arm fell to the floor and a helmet was sent flying high with a half of a head still lodged inside. Another thunderous roar cracked out as a warhammer cracked itself against her palm. She did not flinch and brought a sword into that man's eyes. She pulled free and spun the blade in a wide arc as she caught another man by the neck and his head went limp, held on by a few strands of flesh. She saw a man turn around in run as she began to thin out her attackers. Two men stabbed forward together with sharp shortswords and they died together as she darted her sword forward and slashed across their faces. Another man seize her leg and she kicked him in the teeth and he released her. The man who retreated had blown a horn and the rest of the cavalry had came charging madly forward.

She split an ax like firewood with one swift chop from her hand and pierced his lung with the broken ax head. A few blows hammered against her to no avail and she brought down each of those assailants with one stroke. She ducked to avoid I wickedly spiked flail and it hammered itself into another man. She swept the wielder's legs and took the flail in her left hand. She swung it over head and collapsed a mans helmet. She screamed out and rose it again but before she could strike again the remaining raiders had backed away from her. Sixteen corpses and one man groaning in pain as he bled from his nose and mouth. She silenced him with her sword. The five remaining men looked at her and backed away further as the second wave of bandits reached her.

These men were much better armed. Proper soldiers with armored destriers. One held a waving banner and a giant man who dwarfed his horse rode next to him. He dismounted with creak of plate armor. The runes on his chest plate shone green with enchantment and the girl knew she had found a true foe. He held a giant double-bladed ax in his right hand. Each axehead was the size of a horsehead. When he reached the survivors of the first assault he brought his ax down on the nearest and bisected him. The others ran and the giant waved his hand and the knights rode out to finish them off.

"You fight good." He sounded uneducated but there was an unfiltered carnage in his words that demanded respect from him. "I kill you now. My men will sing a song about you once it is done, they will call you..." he struggled for words. "Little White Dancer. But you will be red. And all will know that when you stand against Sion you die." The 'monologue' took a toll on him and he appeared tired for a moment before he hefted his weapon and screeched out in the air. It was a scream that would put fear in dead. The girl did not falter.

"There will be no men left standing to sing that song." She said simply and the giant charged. She feigned right and Sion had predicted it. She ducked as quick as she could and the ends of her hair were cleaved away. He laughed at that and swung again. She caught it with her sword and tried to twist the weapon away from her opponent but his grip was strong like iron and she was almost disarmed herself as he pulled back fast. He stepped forward and the girl swung low at his feet but he was agile like a feline and he quickly avoided the stroke and brought another horizontal swing. She jumped back and dodged it by an inch but he was quick and pushed the ax forward and the flat steel took the wind out of her chest. Her magic took the blunt of the hit but she pain.

Sion's assault continued relentlessly as brought a fist across her face as he readied another swing. It came down vertically and she would have been split if she had not side stepped it. The flail was slow and had been cut loose from the chain. She dropped it and stabbed forward quick and her sword scratched across the chestplate but only left a small cut in the steel. Sion stepped back and tried to grab the sword with his armored fist but the girl pulled back fast as a viper and charged forward as he grasped air. She jumped up and sent a knee into his unprotected face. He flinched back but only smiled as he turned back to her. He spat blood as he brought his ax forward again.

She jumped back and avoided the strike and came around with a spinning slash. The blow veered towards his head and as he rose his arm in defense she jerked it down and drove into his armpit. There was no plate there, only chainmail and she felt flesh. Sion screamed and kicked her back. His left arm was damaged but it was not his ax hand but she would take anything that she could get. She eyed the soldiers around her and none of them made a move. Only their eyes were alive, the rest of their bodies were stone. Sion groaned and charged forward fast as greased lightning and the woman met him with her sword.

The ax and sword met with a ring of steel and stood together, still. The fighters shook with stress as they tried to force the other over. Even with two arms the girl was only equal to the one hand of Sion. They pulled back together at the same instant and brought the weapons back together with another ring. The girl was faster on the return and her sword was close to his chest. Her arm shook violently and she pulled back and Sion lurched forward as he pressed his weight against his ax, he stumbled past her and she slashed with lightning and two fingers fell from his ax hand. His ax still held true but his next swing was sloppy and she let it pass and she swung quick and his hand flew from him and his ax rattled against the floor. He screamed like an animal but he was not beaten. He charged at her with blind fury and tried in impale her with a spike on his elbow. The strike was poorly aimed and once again he stumbled past and this time she stung him behind the knee with the tip of her sword and he dropped down.

The men around her did not stir. Sion was on his knees now, screaming and hollering. The little white dancer did not take her eyes from the men as she brought down her sword and a silence momentary took the wind until the thump of Sion's head rang out as it dropped to the floor. The body slumped but remained on its knees like a statue. One man with bright green eyes stirred. He looked side to side and snapped his fingers. Two men came forward, unarmed, and took up the body and a third came and collected the dismembered parts. Once his remains were loaded on the horse he rode in on he signaled for his men to return to the hill. None of them uttered a sound and only the man with green eyes remained. He dismounted and stood in front of her. They were equal in height. Neither of them said a word. He unsheathed his sword and the girl watched. She knew what was to come. He drove the blade into the ground between them. It was the true Noxian way. To reward valor, bravery and combat prowess in battle, even for your enemies. She had been in his boots once.

She knew him then. Knew what he was. She didn't know his name, his life or his habits but she saw in his green eyes what men saw in her eyes. True Noxian blood. "You know who I am." She did not ask, she stated. He nodded.

"Aye," He said simply. His voice was stern. "Riven." And there it was, she thought, the word that had followed her all her life. It was not just a name anymore, I was an embodiment of what she stood for. She felt his mind and knew he felt as she did. He felt that Noxus had lost its way just as she felt, this war was not for glory or honor. It was for lust and greed, that is what they told her they opposed when she joined the army.

"What are you going to do?" Riven said, her voice was soft as silk now. The man shrugged.

"I go back. I am honor-bound." He stated and she understood. She embraced him and once she pulled herself back he turned, cloak fluttering in the wind. When he mounted his horse he looked down at her and lingered for just a moment before he turned and never looked back. She watched him until he rode over the hill he had came from and she kept watching until the moon was high in the sky. She felt a happiness inside, glad that there were true Noxian's still breathing. She fondled the hilt of her new sword before she yanked it free. It was much better forged than her older weapon. The hilt was plain as all Noxian weapons were but the blade had two runes engraved near the hilt. The sword was almost four feet long and was meant to be held with two hands in combat but it was lighter than here older sword and she knew she would have no problem wielding it. She held the blade up to the moonlight and the runes glowed green and she smiled. It was two words she knew well: Honor and Duty


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 _Charging through the narrow street_

 _Strength fading like winter's last snowy tears_

 _Red Eyed Girl, won't you keep your feet?_

 _Hide your voice so no one hears?_

 _Your life follows close behind you now_

 _You can't escape by breaking your vow_

 _Noxus always finds his own_

 _There won't be any welcome in your home_

 _Can you hear that?_

 _Caught like a rat in a trap_

 _Water spills to the floor, deep red matte_

 _White Haired Rat, grab his cap_

 _Bare his sword on your side_

 _Wear his tunic on your breast_

 _Hopefully your wits can do the rest_

 _For you are in for one long ride..._

Riven woke with a start. The morning sun shone dimly through overcast clouds as she jumped up. She felt for her sword and founded nestled against the tree she had fallen asleep against. Sweat beaded down her forehead as she grasped for the grip of her blade. When she pulled it up she felt the light trickle of cool dew run down from the cross-guard and onto her hand. She had no scabbard for the blade so she strapped it onto her back with a few leather strips from her vest.

She looked towards the eastern horizon longingly like she could see past the curvature of the world, some natural beauty or haven awaited her there. Her power urged her east but she knew not what waited for her there. She stood for a moment watching with her glossy red eyes for a moment before she drew her hood about her handsome face and began her long walk towards the sunrise.

It was not until sunset that she saw anything but the grassy plains. A mountain ranged crawled its way up from the flatness and towered above her. She was not yet close but she knew her road from there. The Ironspike mountains they were called, tall and narrow like pine trees and they stood thick as flies on a day old corpse. There was no way over them, it was known by the realm that even the most powerful of magi tried to break down a path through these mountains but there was another magic at work against them and the mountains seemed to grow taller in defiance. There were only three ways past. By flying over, sailing around or by taking the wide passage in the south, almost two hundred leagues away from where she stood now. She did not have enough coin to charter a balloon or a ship so she took the long road.

She made camp for the night inside one of the rocky outcrops that began to force their ways out of the ground, a slow natural expansion to the mountains. It looked like a full days march to reach the road that ran parallel to the mountain and she tried to sleep but it would not come. When the sun rose she started off once again and shortly before dusk a small town along a thick dirt road crept up before her. The town was simply an tavern with a few houses and a short wooden palisade the height of a man grown. The gate was open and a guard armed with a small lever drawn crossbow nodded at her as she waved a hand in greeting to him and entered.

She saw a few villagers going about their business in the courtyard, two men with toned muscles carried a fifty gallon pot of water, their faces were red with stress and two woman eyed they hungrily as they passed. Another woman was at work at a clothesline, hanging up two pairs of breeches and shirts. There was a commotion in front of the tavern and Riven pushed herself into the crowd and saw two burly men brawling on the porch. Coin purses jingled in the hands of the onlookers as the two men fought.

The man with the black beard threw a cross with his right and was returned with a kick in the stomach and a thunderous uppercut to his jaw. He reeled back and came in for a reckless punch but his younger foe blocked the hit with his forearms and sent a jab into his ribs before bringing a hard right cross of his own into the ear of his opponent. A bald man with a wide girth stopped the fight, he had an apron about his waist and was the spitting image of a bartender. Thick brown sideburns ran down his cheek and under his short fat nose was curly mustache and a short beard. Gold exchanged hands and the crowd slowly dispersed, most pushed their way into the bar while others seemed to head back home.

The barkeep glanced at her warily and patted the two combatants on the shoulders and offered them both a drink on the house. He pushed them in from behind and took one more glance at Riven before he went inside. When she entered, cool and lively air hit her face. There were almost forty men and women inside, a surprising amount for such a small town. Some of them bore the thick fur coats of the people of the north, Freljordians. There were one or two tabled open but she took a stool at the crowded bar instead. The large man next to her glanced at with approval and turned back to his conversation. She drew the hood down from her head and knocked a knuckle on the fine maple bar counter.

The barkeep looked at her and held up his index finger towards her and carried a tray of pints to a table in the corner. Two other waitresses worked but the tavern was bustling with orders. After a few moments he made his way behind the bar and brought himself to her. He smiled but his eyes were always wary. "What can I get you, lass?" He said. Riven pondered on it for a moment. She did not enjoy being inebriated, it made her feel vulnerable so she never drank wine or beer. But after spending a week drinking water from puddles and rivers she wanted something refreshing and tasty.

"How is your mead?" she inquired. The barkeep shrugged.

"It is as sweet as spring." He lied and Riven smiled.

"I'll have a pint." She said flatly and the barkeeper never took his eye off of her as she made her his drink. His hands moved quick with experience. When the drink was in front of her she stared into the froth for a moment before she brought it to her nose and sniffed it. It was definitely not a quality brew. She knew he had better but he held it back from her. His distaste towards her was confusing. This was a roadside tavern and thrived off of wary travelers. She decided she would find out. She brought down the drink quick and left a copper on the counter as she turned away and walked outside.

The inn wasn't closed until a few hours before sunrise. Riven couldn't sleep anyway, not with this on her mind. She had bought a cloak off of a villager for two coppers and had wrapped herself in it, her form concealed behind the horsehide. It kept her comfortable and she watched as the barkeep closed shop and left. He whistled as he walked and she watched him from afar, leaning softly against the staked wall. There was no inn in the village and any traveler who stayed the night slept against the walls of the palisade, it brought no suspicion towards her. He opened the door to a house and threw his coat inside and closed the door. He stayed outside and looked around for a moment before he made his way towards the gate. A guard with a longbow had drawn night watch and he was approached by the barkeep. She could not hear what was said but she saw that he drew a piece of paper from his breeches and held it up to the guard and pointed. It was a drawing of a woman with white hair and red eyes, the skin was much lighter than hers and her nose was smaller but it looked much like her. It was a wanted poster.

She did not stir as the barkeep pointed towards the line of travelers sleeping against the wall. The guard propped his bow against the frame of the gate and drew a sword from beneath his cloak. He used it to pull hoods away from faces hidden by cloaks. She rubbed her fingers together with anxiety as he came to her and slowly pushed her hood back. When he saw her he stared in his eyes for a moment and quickly took a step back.

"Get up, girl." He said rudely. Riven brought herself to her feet and stood three inches over him. He tried to grab her by the arm and she pushed him back. He snarled and swung his sword at her but she smashed the cheap steel with her elbow with a crack and sent a whipping punch into his jaw, putting him down cold. The barkeep tried to run but she caught up to him in an instant and held a hand over his mouth and drew a dagger from his belt and held it against his flabby back. She pushed him forward until they were behind the tavern.

"If you cry out I'll make sure you bleed out slow." She threatened as she removed her hand. He gasped and she almost stabbed him there but he quickly went silent. "What do you want with me?" She questioned. He was silent and she pricked him in the rear and he yelped.

"You have a b-bounty.." he stuttered. He reached for his pocket but Riven quickly shot her hand and grabbed the paper.

"Wanted for witchcraft, murder and adultery..." she read aloud. "a hundred gold coins for her head. A thousand for her alive." She spat at the last sentence. She turned the barkeep to face her and pinned him against the wall. "Who was to carry out payment?" She demanded. The barkeep shook his head quickly.

"I-I-I-don't know." he was almost at tears and she could almost smell the lie coming from his foul breath. She brought the dagger to his belly and ran it slowly downwards and cut off his breeches, exposing his manhood to the open. When steel brought itself to his prick he yelped again and rose onto his toes. "It was a man. He had a big bushy ponytail an-an-and a long curved sword." He gulped and Riven pushed the blade further and he spilled everything he knew.

He said the men was strange, he had never seen a man such as him before. He was a tall man with tan skin, scars running all across his arms and hands. He wore lose blue robes and his eyes were slanted. The sword was a long thin blade with a slight curve down its length. He was an Ionian, she assumed. That would explain why he wanted her. She had led men when Noxus invaded Ionia and won many battles and killed many men.

"Did he leave a name?" She asked and the barkeep dumbly shook his head and there was only truth in that. She threw the dagger to the ground and he sighed relief. She looked down at his shriveled prick and she felt bad for being so brutal. She took the cloak off of her shoulders and handed it to him and he quickly wrapped himself. She pulled two more coppers from her pocket and handed it to him. He nodded to her and when he bent down to collect his torn and soiled breeches she knocked on his head just hard enough to put him to sleep.

She drew her hood over her head once more and swiftly jumped clean over the palisade and headed south. She knew it was a trap, but she had to go. Now she knew what her head was leading her. It was a warning but also a calling, maybe an answer to some questions or questions that needed answering. She closed her eyes and smiled for a moment before she broke off in a run.


End file.
